


Apart

by quartzguts



Category: Final Fantasy X
Genre: Gen, Sewing, Singing, basically tidus sings the fayth's song and auron is sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-18 00:48:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19965982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quartzguts/pseuds/quartzguts
Summary: Tidus and Auron both have problems with loneliness.





	Apart

**Author's Note:**

> i haven't even finished ffx yet

\---

Tidus finishes cleaning up the kitchen. He's gone through every room in the boat now, picking up trash, wiping down counters, and mopping up floors. The boat is spotless and will remain so until he forgets himself and drags mud in from practice in a day or two. Or until Auron comes back and messes up his perfectly organized bookshelves and cabinets.

The second scenario is less likely. Auron rarely comes around anymore.

When Tidus was young, before his mother died but after she'd stopped getting out of bed, Auron was there almost every day. He'd come over after school started and take care of Tidus's mother until he got home to do it. Then he'd fix some dinner and put Tidus to bed before leaving. When Tidus's mother finally died, he'd moved in permanently. He was there when Tidus woke up to make them both breakfast, he was there to force him to go to school even when he didn't want to, and he was there to fix dinner and watch Tidus practice blitzball in the evenings. The cycle repeated like clockwork, day in, day out, unchanging no matter how many times it happened.

Then, when Tidus turned 12, Auron started leaving him home alone.

For a while, whenever he left, Tidus would sit in the living room and watch the door, waiting for it to open. When Auron inevitably came back a few hours later, he'd jump up from his spot and run back to his room, embarrassed at having been caught waiting up. After all, it was just a few hours alone. Nothing an almost-teenager couldn't handle.

When he'd turned 13, Auron started leaving for days at a time. He'd be gone for the better part of a week, then pop back in without explaining where he'd been. Slowly the absences got longer and more frequent, and Tidus learned what he needed to know to take care of himself when Auron wasn't around; how to clean, how to cook, how to motivate himself to go to school even when he didn't want to.

Now that Tidus is 17, he's pretty sure Auron doesn't technically live with him anymore. He just shows up every once in a while to check on him, look around the boat to make sure he hasn't caused it any major damage, and fix a small meal.

By now, Tidus has gotten good enough at cooking that he thinks his food tastes better. He'd like to show Auron, but he knows he won't stay long enough for two dinners. And he misses Auron's cooking more than he likes to admit.

Tidus sighs and puts his head in his hands. He’s been thinking way too much recently.

He taps out the rhythm of an old song on the kitchen counter, watching the waves break in the distance through the open window. He should be taking advantage of his day off from school to practice blitzball, but that's all he's done recently. He knows that practicing too much can actually hurt his skills, _and_ he's bored of constantly kicking a ball into the ocean, so he turns away from the waves and goes to find something else to do.

'Something else' ends up being sewing. Auron taught him how to do it years ago; he said where he came from people handmade most of their clothes. Tidus threads the needle carefully, wary of sticking himself for the five hundredth time, and pulls his latest project into his lap. He’s using pink thread to hem the skirt, so it’ll blend into the fabric. His stitches are slow and careful.

Jecht would probably mock him for having such a feminine hobby. Tidus silently tells him to suck it.

He's so engrossed in what he's doing that he doesn't hear the lock on the door jiggling or the door opening. He doesn't notice Auron walking up to him until he speaks.

Whatever he said is drowned out by a yelp as Tidus sticks himself with the needle.

"Are you alright?" Auron asks, grabbing Tidus's finger to inspect it. There's a little drop of blood pooling on the tip.

"Hey, let go!" Tidus says. He yanks his finger back and holds it far away from the project on his lap. A quick once over tells him that no blood has gotten on the skirt. "Whew, that's a relief. Thought I'd have to start over."

"Blood can be washed out of clothes," Auron says, and the casual statement seems a bit darker than it maybe should. "Who is this for?"

"Any reason it can't be for me?" Tidus pops his finger in his mouth to lick up the blood.

"No, but I didn't think pink was your color."

"Ha! You're right. Maybe it's for you."

Auron snorts. "Pink isn't my color, either."

Tidus grins. Auron looks ragged, his haori slightly torn, which probably means he's spent the last few days fighting fiends outside the city. Tidus might be able to convince him to stay for a few days to rest. "I dunno, I think it'd look good on you. The skirt's for one of my teammates. When I mentioned I could sew she said she always wanted a handmade outfit, so I decided to make something for her."

"I hope she's paying you," Auron says, but his deadpan snark leaves no doubt in Tidus's mind that he's joking. He goes to sit on the couch next to him. "How's practice?"

Now he's done it. Tidus talks for almost an hour, babbling on about how incredible the Zanarkand Abes are and how much he's learning. He can actually make a sphere shot now, even scored one during their last game. Auron gives him a look that to anyone else would seem bored, but Tidus recognizes it as his I'm-proud-of-you-but-can't-express-my-emotions-in-a-normal-way face, so he takes it as a compliment.

Tidus eventually slows down, giving Auron ample room to speak up and tell him where he's been the past two months. He doesn’t, so they slip into a pleasant silence. Tidus goes back to working on the hem. Auron shifts a bit on the couch, shrugging off his haori and leaning back against the cushions.

"You don't even know you're doing it, do you," he murmurs, more a statement of fact than a question.

"Doing what?" Tidus asks without looking up from his work.

"Humming. The song your father used to sing."

"Oh." The mere mention of Jecht is usually enough to put Tidus in a bad mood, but he's trying to grow out of that particular habit. Now that he's a professional player, he's constantly asked about Jecht, by his coach and his teammates and fans and interviewers. He can't keep getting pissy every time someone mentions the guy, regardless of how much he pisses him off.

Auron cracks a small smile. "Keep singing."

Tidus is fascinated by that expression. He’s never seen Auron look so peaceful. "Well, now that I know I have an audience, I don't think…."

"Pretend I'm not here," Auron says.

Tidus nods slowly, then turns back to his sewing and starts humming again. He puts more effort into getting the notes right this time, and before long he's actually singing. He hopes he's getting the words right. He hasn't heard anyone else sing this song since childhood.

Come to think of it, he's never heard it on the radio either. Or on TV. Or online. He briefly wonders if Jecht made it up.

He trails off. Auron's good eye is closed, and he's lying back against the couch in a remarkably relaxed manner. Tidus squints a little, trying to make out that odd expression. All these years and he's still not sure what Auron is to him. Legally he's his guardian, but emotionally? Realistically? Tidus isn't sure. He knows most people would consider Auron his family, even his father, but the condescending attitude of his real father and the casual indifference of his mother left a bad taste in his mouth regarding _family_. He prefers friends.

But he and Auron aren’t friends. Definitely not.

He thinks Auron’s fallen asleep and is trying to figure out how to carry him back to his room when he cracks his eye open.

"Something wrong?" He asks.

Something _is_ wrong, but Tidus doesn't know enough to figure out what it is. "Uh. No."

"Then keep singing."

"What is it about this song?" Tidus blurts out. "I mean, my old man sang it all the time, and now you know it, too, so -"

"It reminds me of home," Auron says, looking away. A few stray clouds must have blown over the sun outside, because the room is growing steadily darker. Tidus frowns at Auron's melancholy expression; he's always known there are painful things in Auron’s past that he won't talk about, but he can't force him to share. He's tried.

"...did you teach my old man this song?" He asks. "Or did he… did he visit your home…?"

Auron sighs, the sound wistful and low. "Keep singing."

Tidus does. By the time evening comes, the skirt is finished and Auron has fallen asleep on the couch.

Tidus glances over at the clock. It's still early. He can let Auron nap for a little bit while he cooks dinner. Maybe while they eat he can convince him not to leave again.

He can only stand being alone for so long.

\---


End file.
